


Settled

by nextraordinaire



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials, Developing Relationship, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextraordinaire/pseuds/nextraordinaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you’d asked people when Erik was young what Esther would settle as, there would have been a general consensus. <br/>A predator, no questions asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settled

**Author's Note:**

> Loose interpretation of Pullman’s ideas – basically, just dæmons, feels and boys in love.
> 
> _Esther_ \- means _star_ in Persian. Queen Esther was also the Jewish wife of the king of Persia who saved the Jewish people from extermination.
> 
> _Darshana_ \- means _seeing, understanding, philosophy_ in Sanskrit.

If you’d asked people when Erik was young what Esther would settle as, there would have been a general consensus. 

A feline predator, no questions asked. 

Something associated with silence, independence and moodiness – or simply something big, like a bear or a lonesome wolf. It was true that one of Esther’s favorite forms always had been a tiger, but both of them had known, somehow, that it was not was she was destined to be.

Grey morning light and the sound of rain filtered in through the window, rousing Erik from sleep. The tip of his nose was cold and the rest of him felt sore, open and heavy in a distinct way he was sure he recognized from somewhere, at the same time it was brand new.

Blinking his eyes open, he looked up into the ceiling, just breathing. Charles was still sleeping beside him, snoring slightly. His ribs moved with every breath, pushing Darshana up and down where she was curled up on his chest; her tail flicking in their sleep. The love bites he’d left on Charles’ neck were stark against his pale skin, and Erik felt oddly proud. He still remembered how soft Darsh’s pelt had felt under his fingertips last night.

Afterwards, Charles had taken her out of his hands and kissed him, slow and soft, before things progressed.

Feeling a blush coming on, Erik sat up, raking his fingers through his hair. Last night had been the culmination of nearly two years of build-up, back-tracks and misunderstandings that had nearly ruined them both. They really would’ve been ruined too, if Esther hadn’t  persuaded him to call Charles to talk things out once and for all. And Charles had come over, soaking wet from running over campus. His fingertips had been white, and Erik couldn't get him out of his clothes fast enough.

His eyes darted over to the foot of his narrow college bed, where she usually slept in her tiger form, only to find the spot empty.

Heart in his throat, he looked out over the room. “Estee?” he whispered, as not to wake Charles or Darsh from their sleep.

There was a moment of silence, before he heard a just as quiet reply. “Down here.”

Slipping out from the warmth under the covers, Erik knelt down on the cold floor. He still couldn’t see her, but he knew she was very close still. No further than a few feet. They had picked on him, before, because he always kept her so close to him; like a stuffed animal even though he had been nearly twelve and way too old to need the constant physical contact.

That it had hurt like nothing else when she went further than a yard from him, Erik had never told anyone.

“Down here. Under the bed.”

Erik lifted the cover and peered into the darkness. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears. Esther’s eyes glinted in the far corner, where his head was when it rested on his pillow. But it was too dark to see anything else.

He swallowed. “Esther,” he asked, despite knowing the answer. “What is happening?”

The rain smattered away on the window pane. Erik took his weight of his wrist, the one he’d broken in fifth grade when he’d saved Esther from being run over by a car, to lean on his forearm instead.

“Erik,” she whispered in that Scottish accent none of them knew where it had come from. “I’m –”

Erik couldn’t breathe. He could feel the air fighting its way down his throat, not being able to push through some imaginary block. At twenty, he had started to believe that he was forever destined to be one of those – the vagabonds, the forever wanderers. The ones who never settled, the flighty ones –

Those to never be trusted. To never find peace.

It didn’t matter what he’d been told (first by his mother, then the counselor down at the student health center) that it sometimes took until twenty-five until you settled. Sometimes longer, according to Charles, who studied the thing, had written papers on it. Neither had it mattered how much Esther tried to reassure him, lying beside him, striped and beautiful and telling him that she could feel it in her Dust that she was destined for something else. Something more. Something solid.

Now, he could almost feel her shaking, there, in the corner. She wasn’t big, that was for sure. “Come on out, then,” Erik said, voice clogging in his throat as he reached out his hand and closed his eyes.

And for a moment, Erik just listened to his own heartbeat. Then, he heard the light sound of soft paws against the wall-to-wall, and the feel of smooth fur under his hand. He could feel the curve of her spine fitting neatly under his palm.

He opened his eyes.

Esther looked back up at him; her long ears flickering, cataloging his reaction.

“Hare,” Erik breathed, his voice so thick he could barely form the words. “You’re a  _hare_.”

Esther’s eyes darted to the ground. Then she skipped forward, and pressed her flicking nose against the palm of his hand, insistent. “I  _know_. I know this isn’t what you wanted, not really, but I can’t change back, not after–”

“No,” Erik shook his head so hard he felt dizzy. Something burned behind his eyes as he looked down at her – at her silky white fur, the long ears with their black tips and her big, kind and alert eyes. Suddenly, it felt as if he’d been struck. All of his body, even the tips of his fingers ached and everything was going blurry with the force of something much bigger than himself.

Without hesitation, he open his hands, letting her hop into his lap before he pulled her against his chest. Her heart was beating so fast in time with his, and he clutched her even harder, burying his face in her soft side.

“Don’t love me to death,” she said lowly, warm fur against the shell of his ear and Erik just huffed out something choked that could have been a laugh to someone somewhere and touched his nose against hers. Her whiskers tickled against his cheeks and the imaginary block in his throat loosened all at once. “And don’t you cry, boy.”

“Too late,” Erik forced out, smiling.

His face was already wet.

 


End file.
